The Pool Race
by spiderwebbed
Summary: Evalyn Monae Jones has gone to the pool early to claim the best spot in the house- she just didn't know that she wouldn't be the only one to try...


**To help the confusion, this story features America as a black female- black!America if you will. She is not a replacement of Alfred- instead, Eva represents the black population in America.**

Evalyn wrapped a towel around her hips, tying it down securely. She touched the back of her neck to check- just as she thought, the bikini top was secure. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't spend another summer by the pool being lazy, but today was just too _hot_ to stay in. And then… she touched the rippling scars on her back. There would always be people with their stares and questions. She pursed her lips and threw a water bottle in her purse. _Forget that_. Them kinda people would always be there, so why did she have to bother with 'em?

She slid open the gate. The sun had been merciful and hadn't yet burned the chairs to a crisp- so thankfully, she could touch the plastic without wincing. Eva put her huge purse onto the chair and dove into the pool. It was wonderful- like diving into a cool, crisp glass of comfort. _This feels so good._ She plunged out into the surface and shook her head, water flying everywhere from her untamed mass of thick, now soaking wet curls. As she climbed out of the pool to go sit in her lawn chair, she heard the gate open. She flicked down her sunglasses and greeted the newcomer without checking to see who it was. It was slightly surprising- and delightful- to note that it was a fine young man whose form she knew very well. The tall blond had his wavy hair pulled back and a pair of sunglasses pushed onto his forehead. A beach towel covered in polar bears sat across his shoulders. She pulled a book from her beach bag, then greeted him.

"Oh! Hey, Matt- I didn't expect anyone else to come this early." She smiled wide, bright straight white teeth glowing in the midst of dark brown skin. If there was one thing she knew, it was that this here boy was a _fine_ specimen of men who knew how to treat a woman right. Lord knew she had a tragic past- who didn't these days? While everyone got concerned for a good while, Matthew came by once per week, months after the pains had subsided. It may've been nothing, but the affection that grew had stayed there, and she couldn't help feel that desire to be just a _little_ flirtatious every time she met him thereafter. Matthew blushed lightly, then smiled back, lifting up a hand in a movement-less wave.

"You know me Eva- early to bed, early to rise." He glanced around the pool area, thinking of where he could put his things.

"Come over here then!" She beckoned him forward, patting the lawn chair beside her. "Mhm, and bless you for it. Early to bed I can do regularly- if I try. But early to rise? Mm-mm, honey- not for a thousand pesos and a bottle of barbeque sauce." He chuckled quietly.

"It's not so bad if you get used to it. You just have to get a really good alarm clock."

Evalyn pursed her lips and scrutinized him over her sunglasses. "Mhm, right." _The best alarm clock for a girl like me is a __**man**__, Hun, and I don't think you're quite as interested as I need you to be._ She waved her hand at him dismissively. "You know I don't like to deal with foolishness early in the morning." She shook her head. "It's good that I don't have one that works. I'd soon as break that thing if it started functionin' properly." He grinned at her.

"Well, if you're not too sleepy Miss Evalyn," Matt began teasingly, "I think a race is just what you need to get your blood pumping. Exercise that sleepy heart of yours." Her eyebrow lifted. _Keep lookin' at me like that and you'll get my heart pumpin' alright._ She grinned lazily.

"Mhm, honey- as comfortable as I am reclining in this here chair, Mr. Williams, I'm finding it hard to get some motivation to rise up out of this here chair, if you get my drift. You got some kind of wager to motivate me into taking you up on that offer?" She placed her book and sunglasses on the table, then looked at him with a smile, dark eyes totally concentrated on his.

Matt looked thoughtful for a moment, pushing up his glasses.

"How about… you win, I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find in Quebec. If I win, you have to give me a prize." Her eyebrow lifted, her lips pursed in an expression of unamused dissatisfaction.

"What kinda prize we talkin'?"

"Oh, I think you know what kind of prize." He tapped his cheek twice and smiled slightly. Evalyn paused for a moment… then flung the towel off of her legs. He laughed. "Come on then!" Evalyn shook her head at him.

"I never knew a man so eager to lose." She winked at him, and walked to the edge of the pool, lowering herself in.

Slightly belated, he laughed, pulling his shirt off eagerly and following suit. His eyes slipped down her back, appreciating the way the old fashioned black polka dot bathing suit presented her shape without putting it on exhibition. Matt slipped in the pool and wet his arms, then looked at Evalyn with a cheeky grin.

"Ready?"

"Get set…?"

"Go!" They both pushed off of the pool wall, tearing toward the other end. Evalyn felt her hand touch the edge of the wall and pushed forward back to the other end. She wiped her eyes, but to her chagrin, there he was with his arms folded, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He pushed a few stray bits of hair from his face. "I'm sure you'll do better next time."

Evalyn rolled her eyes, then splashed him lightly. "Oh, hush that noise. One win doesn't make you a champion." She shook her hair at him, flicking him with hundreds of cool droplets. "Looking good no matter whether you win or not- now _that_ makes a champ." Matt reached out and tugged a thick curl playfully.

"Sore loser."

Evalyn scoffed. "Negro please. I'm just disappointed to lose out on that prize dinner. 'Cause boy, I had that Quebeçois cuisine before and I know I'm missing out."

"I'm glad you think so highly of my food…" He looked at her playfully. "Ah, and speaking of prizes…" He tapped his cheek suggestively. Evalyn rolled her eyes.

"You are so full of it, young man." She pressed her lips to the side of his face gently for a lingering moment. "Satisfied?"

"Oh… Yes." Matthew's eyes sought hers and he smiled at her, his eyes soft with affection. "Definitely." It was quiet for a moment until he cleared his throat. "Thanks. If I weren't mistaken, I'd think you were trying to earn back the right to your own prize." Evalyn smiled back, then tapped the underside of his chin.

"I told you what makes a real champion, didn't I?" She laughed. "Come on, champ. I'm getting out of the pool." She swam away to the ladder, climbing up with some effort. He swam behind her, looking at her from the side of the pool wall. As she toweled dry her curls, Matt watched her, his lips pressed together.

"Hey… Evalyn."

"What is it, sug?"

"I'm serious. I really want to take you out to dinner. Is that… alright with you?" Matt waited for her response with halted breath. Evalyn paused before responding, the towel still on her head. She took a deep breath and slid it off her damp hair. Then, she gave him a look of disapproval, shaking her head.

"Fool, it is about _time_." She placed a hand on her hip. "You know how long I been waitin' to hear them words from you?"

He smiled meekly. "How long?"

_Too long._ She cleared her throat instead of answering. "Yeah. I wanna go out with you for dinner. For more than just one, if I'm completely honest," she mused bluntly. She went to the edge of the pool and held out a hand for him. He grabbed it and she began to pull him out. When his body was halfway out of the water, she shoved him back in mercilessly, laughing loudly. He broke the surface sputtering, a shocked expression on his face.

"What was that for?"

She turned away from him smugly, hips switching away. "I told you I don't like dealing with no foolishness in the morning. Next time you wanna race for a chance to have a dinner date, you betta let me win. I ain't got time for no games," she responded, her tone serious, but her expression not so. She smiled to herself as she opened her book. _Except for the occasional race._

**Just sort of by the way- the reason I ship her with Canada is because she's got a long history with him- stretching back to the Underground Railroad. She considers Matt her 'hero' in a way that Alfred could never be. And she isn't related to Alfred or Matt or anything, considering her African roots.**


End file.
